


Respite Amidst the Storm

by Mikauzoran



Series: Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is not in a good place mentally sometimes, Adrinette, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Kissing, Love Confessions, Marichat, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, Partial Identity Reveal, Pining, Romance, Slightly Aged-Up (17), Snuggling, Supportive Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Supportive Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), adrienette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikauzoran/pseuds/Mikauzoran
Summary: When Adrien feels alone and unloved on the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance, he goes as Chat Noir to Marinette for movies and snuggles, honest conversations, love confessions, kisses, an identity reveal, and the promise of happily ever after.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Plagg, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922590
Comments: 61
Kudos: 456





	Respite Amidst the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mnzknight96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnzknight96/gifts).



> Hi everyone! Thanks so much for checking out this story. Are you ready for some Marichat? ^.^
> 
> This story came about because I was bored and asked on Tumblr for people to send in prompts for me to work on so that I could still feel productive even while procrastinating on writing Chapter Thirty-Eight of Serendipity. This is the fourth one I received. It's from [mnzknight96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnzknight96). (Thanks for participating in the prompt giveaway!)
> 
> Prompt: Chat visits Marinette because he feels unloved and he goes to her because she told him that she does and Marinette confesses that she lied to Chat on the day of Weredad and apologizes. It devastated Chat and he pretends to be fine and is about to leave but Marinette man handles him like a boss and gets him to spill why he’s sad.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story!

“Kid,” Plagg called softly, a warmth and tenderness to his voice. “You’ve got to stop singing that song. It’s morbid and depressing.”

Torpidly, Adrien’s eyes slid open, and he lifted his head from the knee of the stone sculpture of his mother out in the walled garden behind the mansion.

“But it’s a lullaby that Maman used to sing to me,” he protested weakly.

Plagg floated up to eye level to gaze at his charge with a pained expression. “I know. That’s why it’s depressing and morbid. Come on, Adrien. Let’s go inside. You’ve been sitting out here for over an hour, and it’s getting cold.”

Adrien sighed, lowering his head once more. “I don’t want to be trapped inside that empty mansion, Plagg. Go in without me and help yourself to the Camembert in the minifridge.”

The kwami frowned, sinking down to curl up on Adrien’s thigh. “No. I think I’d rather stay with you,” he replied with feigned aloofness, as if the matter were of little consequence.

That got an anemic smile out of Adrien. He swallowed back tears, whispering a brittle, “thank you”.

They continued their vigil as the sunlight gradually faded below the horizon and the chill of the late March evening set in.

“Kid?” Plagg called when he felt Adrien start to shiver. “Why don’t you get out your phone and talk to someone? You don’t have to be alone just because no one’s reached out to you for the anniversary this year.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “Everyone’s busy. You were there when I tried to make plans with people earlier this week. Nino and Alya are attending that amateur journalist gala so she can accept her prize. Kagami’s away at that fencing boot camp. Chloé’s mom let her come with her for the filming of that Project Runway Paris show where she’s a judge. Wayem and his boyfriend are going to the movies to see that new suspense/thriller movie about that grifter crew, and the Couffaines and Rose are having dinner with Jagged and Penny and then going to Jagged’s concert afterwards. No one’s available,” Adrien huffed indignantly.

“I already tried to make sure I wouldn’t be alone today when it became apparent that no one remembered the anniversary of Maman’s disappearance this year, but everyone’s too busy for me.” The edge dropped out of Adrien’s voice as his eyes slid closed. “…Even my own father,” he mumbled hollowly.

A single tear slid down Adrien’s cheek and landed in Émilie’s statue’s lap.

“I can’t believe that moldy cheese curd left you,” Plagg hissed, even though he wasn’t the least bit surprised at Gabriel planning a business trip, taking Nathalie (Adrien’s de facto caretaker and mother figure) with him, and leaving Adrien to grieve on his own the whole week.

Adrien shrugged. “He doesn’t care about me anymore. You heard what he said when I begged him to skip the conference in New York and stay home with me. He told me to grow up and stop acting so childish…that he didn’t raise me to be a…” Adrien swallowed back his emotions so that only a tear or two escaped out of the hundreds that threatened. “…a sniveling, needy whiner.”

“He didn’t mean that,” Plagg lied for all that he was worth. “You know how cranky he gets over every little thing. He was probably upset about something having to do with the trip, and he took it out on you. Maybe he’s dealing with his own grief over your mother and he snapped because you remind him of her.”

Defending Gabriel made Plagg feel physically ill, and he firmly intended to scrape off his tongue and gargle with Adrien le Parfum later to get the revolting taste out of his mouth, but, for now, his kitten needed a kinder reality, and Plagg was willing to do anything he could to give that to him.

“Your father loves you,” Plagg stressed.

Adrien looked up, eyes filled with a tentative, fragile hope. “Really? You think so?”

Plagg flew back up to eye level, nodding vehemently. “More than anything.”

If those assertions ever came back to bite Plagg later, he could always explain that he had been telling the truth because _Plagg_ had long ago adopted Adrien as his own, and Plagg loved his kitten very much indeed.

Adrien seemed to ponder this for a long while before muttering, “…He just doesn’t know how to show it, I guess.”

Plagg nodded sadly.

“Because it feels like he doesn’t care,” Adrien sighed. “…It feels like _no one_ cares, Plagg. Father doesn’t know how to express his feelings. Maman left me behind. Even my friends…”

He shook his head. “It hurts that they forgot. The past few years, when they went out of their way to make sure I felt loved and not alone…that meant the world to me. Just being thought of and knowing that they cared about how I was feeling… Them making sure I was okay… I needed that, but, this year, it feels like… ‘Well, we coddled you the first three anniversaries of your mother’s disappearance. Now we’re kind of tired of your pity party, so it’s time for you to grow up and get over it. For year four and onward, you’re on your own.’”

“Adrien, I’m sure it’s not like that,” Plagg tried to persuade him. “They probably just got caught up in their own lives. I mean, last year it was pretty much just Nino, Alya, and Marinette who had that game night for you. You got calls from a couple people to check in on you, but it wasn’t anything like the production it was the second or first years. I don’t think it’s that people don’t care. I think it’s that they don’t realize what a big deal it still is.”

“How can they not realize that this is a big deal?” Adrien scoffed indignantly. “My mother was just _gone_ one day. I don’t know if something happened to her, if someone hurt her and she’s dead, or if she-she left me.” Adrien’s voice broke as the hurt and uncertainty and distress got to be too much.

Plagg flew up to nuzzle Adrien’s cheek and carefully wipe away the tears. “Shh. It’s okay. Adrien…you hardly ever talk about your mother, and when you do, you’re so nonchalant about it. Your friends probably have no idea that you don’t talk about her because it’s still too painful to think about and that the lack of emotional response is a dam keeping all the pain inside,” Plagg tried to explain gently in a way that wouldn’t put Adrien on the offensive.

“But…” Adrien gazed up at Plagg in confusion. “How can they _not_ suspect that something’s wrong?”

“Trust me. You’re too subtle, Kid,” Plagg sighed. “I spend the majority of my time hiding inside of your shoulder, and I didn’t find out your mother had recently disappeared for two or three months after we met. Heck. I didn’t find out you had an estranged older brother until _last year_. You’ve got to talk to people when there’s a problem, Adrien. No one knows you’re not okay unless you say something.”

Adrien averted his gaze. “I don’t know how. Father doesn’t approve of displaying negative emotions in public. I’m not supposed to make a spectacle of myself because it reflects poorly on Father and the company, so…how do I tell people I’m not okay?” He looked back up at Plagg, hoping to find answers in the ancient being.

“Simple,” Plagg assured. “You go to someone you really trust, someone you know loves you, and you say, ‘I’m not okay’. They should take the lead from there.”

Adrien frowned, still seeming unsure.

“Want to give it a try?” Plagg prompted, praying he could convince his charge to leave the garden and head somewhere more hospitable where someone would make him feel less miserable. “We could transform and give Ladybug a call. She said you could always call her communicator and she’d get back to you as soon as she could. Wouldn’t you feel better if you saw your partner?”

Adrien’s shoulders scrunched up to meet his ears, and Plagg internally cursed at his miscalculation. “I know she loves me as a friend, Plagg. I know what we have is really precious, but…when I’m already feeling unloved, I don’t think I need to be around someone who makes me feel _unlovable_ on top of that.”

Plagg winced. “Plenty of people love you, Kid.”

A snide bark of laughter slipped past Adrien’s lips. “Who? My fans? Plagg, I—”

“—Why didn’t you try to set up plans with your girlfriend for tonight?” Plagg interrupted, changing tactics. “You didn’t call her when you were trying everyone else. What’s up with that?”

Adrien’s whole body went pink, starting with his cheeks and radiating outwards. He rubbed at the back of his neck, a goofy, frazzled smile flickering on his lips.

After some spluttering, he finally got out a solid denial: “Marinette’s not my girlfriend.”

Plagg’s lips stretched into a snaggle-toothed grin. “Maybe not, but you _want_ her to be. So? Why didn’t you try to set something up with her? For all you know, she could be free and at home bored, and here you are sitting out in the cold and the dark and feeling wretched.”

Adrien bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding Plagg’s ember-like eyes as he bashfully confessed, “Doing things with her, just the two of us, it feels like a date. What kind of lousy son would I be scheduling a date on the anniversary of my mother’s disappearance?”

“Your mother loved you, right?” Plagg challenged.

Adrien blinked, considering for a moment before nodding. “I think she did.”

“Then your mother would want you to be with the cute girl you like, having a nice evening instead of sitting around on the cold, hard ground with your head in the lap of a cold, hard heap of rock feeling miserable,” Plagg informed bluntly, taking no prisoners. “Call your girlfriend and ask her to go on a date with you.”

“Plagg,” Adrien chided. “Marinette doesn’t have those kinds of feelings for me. She’s only interested in being friends. I mean, she’s explicitly told me several times that she’s just a fan of my father’s work and doesn’t have any romantic interest in me.”

Plagg rolled his luminous eyes and crossed his stubby arms, muttering acerbically, “Yeah, and she also told Chat Noir she was in love with him. She says a lot of things she doesn’t mean.”

Adrien’s whole face lit up at the first sentence, and his selective hearing completely missed the second as his brain sprinted way ahead of himself.

“Plagg, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed in glee. “Do you think Marinette might still have leftover feelings for Chat Noir?”

The kwami’s eyes went as wide as marbles as he realized what he had done, the fall he’d set his charge up for. “Kid. Adrien, no. Hold your horses.”

“No. Don’t worry. I get it,” Adrien assured. “I mean, I know she’s probably moved on. Marinette’s the most popular girl at our school, and I know she has plenty of suitors, but she seemed so in earnest when she confessed to Chat Noir. She was in love with me once somehow. Maybe if I let her know what an idiot I was four years ago and how much I regret it and that I have feelings for her now…maybe she’ll forgive me and we can rekindle what she felt back then.”

“Adrien,” Plagg pleaded, waving his arms in an attempt to get Adrien’s attention and wrangle his kitten’s runaway scheme. “No. Listen to me. Just call her as Adrien and ask her out. I promise you—”

But Adrien wasn’t listening.

“—Plagg,” he called, sounding enthusiastic about something for the first time all week, “transform me!”

“Good evening, Ma Princesse,” Chat Noir greeted with a sweeping bow as Marinette poked her head up through her skylight.

“Good evening, Chat Noir,” she chuckled, giving him a slightly odd look. “…You can’t keep calling me that. Seriously,” she insisted even as she kept laughing.

He straightened up and shrugged. “Why not? It’s so fitting.”

She rolled her eyes with enough snark to rival Ladybug. “ _I_ don’t think so. I’m not the type to sit around in a tower waiting to be rescued.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re more the Xena, Warrior Princess-slash-Wonder Woman, princess of the Amazons type. _I_ would be the princess in a tower trope.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed, and her lips rounded into an inquisitive “o” as she prepared to respond, but he didn’t give her time to question his assertion.

“—May I come in?” He smiled disarmingly.

“Uh…sure,” Marinette easily agreed, disappearing back into her room and climbing down the ladder, out of the way. “I mean, so long as you don’t mind the mess,” she called up to him. “I’m gearing up for a competition, so it looks a little bit like ‘[Alice and the Pirates](https://lolitafashion.fandom.com/wiki/Alice_and_the_Pirates)’ threw up in here. I’ve been working like a madman the past two weeks.”

“You’re doing [Lolita](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lolita_fashion) fashion?” Chat hummed in interest. 

Marinette had only told Adrien that she was taking on this particular competition as a creative challenge, not what that challenge entailed exactly.

“I don’t know if I’m succeeding, but that’s the idea,” Marinette snickered self-deprecatingly. “It’s not really my style, but I thought it would be good to expand my wheelhouse…. I’m learning a lot about ruffles and frills.”

“I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park,” Chat encouraged, carefully making his way to the clear patch of floor next to her chaise longue.

“I hope so,” Marinette sighed, making a half-hearted attempt at reestablishing some semblance of order amidst the chaos that was her workspace.

She looked up at him and smiled, tone shifting. “So. Chat Noir. What’s up? Please don’t tell me there’s another akuma trying to get me to date him,” she joked, although it had kind of stopped being funny after the fourth time such events had transpired.

He grimaced, trying not to think about how she may have hit it a little too on the nose if she turned him down and broke his heart. He was sure he was only one more rejection away from becoming Papillon’s sartorially-challenged bad guy of the week.

He cleared his throat and took the satchel he’d brought along off of his shoulder. “Actually, I come bearing gifts.”

He took out the silk [taffeta](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taffeta) his father would never miss (and, if he did, would blame Nathalie for) along with an as-of-yet-unreleased issue of _Gabriel_ ’s spring line catalogue.

Marinette’s eyes widened to the size of ping-pong balls, and her mouth fell open. “Wha—? Chat Noir! How…? This is really expensive material!”

She looked back and forth between him and the gifts in pure amazement.

He shrugged, smiling in delight at her reaction as he held out the fabric and magazine. “I swear neither of these gifts caused me financial hardship. Take them. You’ll get a lot more out of them than I ever could.”

Tentatively, she accepted them, running the fabric through her hands, luxuriating in the texture. She held it up to the light and then to her skin, seeing how the royal blue hue complimented her complexion.

She looked up into the mirror across the room and gasped as she saw how the colour made her eyes pop. 

Chat had picked well.

Next, she turned her attention to the catalogue, flipping through and marveling at the designs.

“This isn’t out yet,” Marinette breathed, stopping to admire a photo of Adrien lying on a bed of clouds, eyes smoldering.

Her cheeks gradually reddened the longer she stared at the enticing image, and they practically exploded into fuchsia when she looked up and locked eyes with Chat. “…How did you get this?”

He shrugged. “I know a _Gabriel_ model who had a copy. He has no interest in staring at pictures of himself, but I’ve seen your walls before, so I knew you’d be overjoyed to have more ogling material.”

Marinette glared, whapping Chat’s arm with the magazine. “I don’t ogle Adrien,” she grumbled, smacking him again as he kept laughing at her. “I ogle the _clothes_. Things between Adrien and me are purely platonic.”

Chat held up his hands, half-heartedly defending himself as she swatted at him a third time. “I know, Marinette. I know. I’m sorry. Just teasing.”

She rolled her eyes, giving an indignant snort.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated more sincerely. “I shouldn’t have joked like that.”

She waved him off, turning to put away her new treasures. “Don’t worry about it. I was mostly joking pretending to be so offending. I get crap from Alya and the girls about Adrien all the time, so it’s not really a big deal. I’m not going to get akumatized over it or anything, so it’s fine.”

She paused and looked back over her shoulder at him, sending such a sweet, angelic smile his way that his heart did a backflip. “Thank you, by the way. For the gifts. They’re too perfect, and I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“You could always let me hang out here this evening,” he suggested hopefully. “If you don’t mind, I mean. I wouldn’t be in your way at all, promise. And I wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to entertain me or anything. I could just sit in the corner and be quiet. I just…”

He gave her a brittle, unsure smile, as if he were just waiting to be told no and sent away.

Marinette turned back to him with a frown, kicking heaps of fabric and lace and appliqué materials out of the way as she made her way over to the chaise. “Chat Noir…are you trying to bribe me into hanging out with you?”

He turned up the wattage on his smile and laughed, “Is it working?” as if he were joking.

On the inside, he held his breath.

She reached up, gently petting his hair as she sighed, “Oh, Chaton…you don’t have to bring me expensive gifts to get me to spend time with you. We’re friends. All you have to do is show up and ask if I’m busy.”

“Oh.” He nearly choked on the syllable as tears threatened to fall once more.

“Take a seat,” she instructed, giving his cheek a pat before spinning on her heel and setting about to clean up her room a bit.

“I don’t mean to get in the way of your work on your entry for the competition,” he protested feebly, obediently sitting on the chaise and watching her tidy up.

“You’re not,” she insisted, throwing a handful of champagne pink chiffon onto her extra desk chair. “We can hang out and watch a movie or something and eat popcorn and drink hot chocolate while I keep working on my entry. I am the _master_ of multitasking, Chat Noir.”

His lips quivered with emotion as he smiled in pure gratitude and affection.

She was so good, so kind and thoughtful and giving.

His heart overflowed with love for her as she set up her computer to play The Little Mermaid and went downstairs to make some popcorn and her Dupain-Cheng special hot chocolate.

She set up blankets and pillows and her large cat body pillow on the floor so that they could sit side-by-side as the movie played and she worked on the hand-stitched elements to her pirate Lolita dress.

“May I ask what’s up?” she inquired gently as she settled onto the floor beside him.

“What’s up?” he echoed, puzzled.

“If you feel like talking about it,” Marinette quickly added. “You seemed a little desperate for some company. Is something wrong? I don’t mean to pry, but if you need to talk… I don’t want you stuffing it all down inside until it explodes and you get akumatized,” she pressed gently. “I’m always happy to listen if you need a friendly ear—tonight or whenever.”

Slowly, he nodded, trying to piece together the words to explain how he was feeling. “Thanks, Marinette.” He pursed his lips. “…I really appreciate it. I…”

He thought back to what Plagg had said about just telling someone he trusted and knew loved him that he wasn’t okay.

He bit his lip. “I…I’m kind of having a rough time….” The rest of the words died in his throat. He was afraid to let the raw, ugly truth out, afraid that it would ruin everything.

How lucky was he to be sitting there with her about to watch a movie? Wasn’t the popcorn and the hot chocolate and the attention enough? What more would he gain by putting himself out there and potentially making her uncomfortable? He stood to lose so much.

“I’m having a rough time,” he repeated in a lighter tone, giving her a fake smile. “I’m just kind of lonely. My father’s out of town, and my friends are all busy, so the house feels too big and echo-y. I just really needed a friendly face tonight, but I’m okay.”

She evaluated his words and seemed to find them lacking, but she nodded and let it go, accepting that that was all he felt comfortable sharing at present. “Okay. …Thanks for talking with me about it. If you’re ever feeling lonely, feel free to drop by, okay? I’m usually double booked, so I can’t always stop what I’m doing to play video games or put together a puzzle or anything, but if you just need another person around, you’re welcome to come sit with me while I do whatever I’m doing,” she offered with a sheepish smile. “I usually have music or some kind of noise going in the background, so it won’t bother me if you want to come watch a movie or read a book or whatever while I’m doing other stuff. If you think that will help, I mean.”

He returned her grin with interest, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re epic, Marinette. Thank you.”

“Sure thing. Any time,” she stressed, starting up the movie.

Chat mostly watched Marinette’s hands at work as the movie audio played in the background. He tuned in during Part of Your World, and they both stopped to sing along to Under the Sea.

Kiss the Girl made Chat a little uncomfortable because it was hitting a bit close to home, and, by the end, the Disney movie magic had him thinking that he _had_ to say something about his feelings before it was too late. The chemistry between them was, he thought, undeniable, and he needed to act before the chance slipped away.

He turned to her as the credits played, eyes stormy and uncertain but hopeful. He swallowed, gathered his courage, and spoke. “Marinette?”

“Hm?” She looked up from her dress and waited for him to go on.

He could feel his palms sweating inside the suit. “I’m sorry to bring up a bad memory, but…I wanted to talk to you about Papa Garou.”

Marinette winced, her front teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“I know it’s been a couple years, and I don’t expect you’ve been sitting around nursing a crush on me all this time, but…you were in love with me once, and I was wondering…” He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. “…do you still have feelings for me? Do you think you could fall for me again?”

Marinette grimaced, setting her sewing materials to the side as she turned towards him, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Oh, Chat Noir…I’m so sorry. I don’t… Papa Garou was a mistake.”

His face fell. “O-Oh?”

She took his hands in hers and nodded. “I’m sorry I put you through all that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was really mixed up back then. I was having issues telling the guy I like that I liked him, and that evening when you landed on my roof, I was panicking, and you know how when you’re panicking you say the most ridiculous things?”

“Yeah,” Chat mumbled, his hearing going in and out. “Ridiculous.”

“I mean, I guess I did have a little bit of a crush on you,” she confessed, quickly adding, “subconsciously. You’re really cool and a great guy and everything, but I knew I’d screwed up the minute the words were out of my mouth because I _wasn’t_ in love with you, and that’s a horrible thing to lie about, and I’m really sorry that I made you uncomfortable and you had to sit through that awkward brunch and fight my dad and everything.”

“Yeah, no. No worries,” he replied disjointedly, trying to cover up how badly he was taking this news. “I didn’t mind. I just felt bad, thinking I’d hurt you and upset your father.”

“I’m sorry, Chat Noir,” she repeated. “Things kind of got out of hand. I should have fessed up to my mistake and set the record straight, but…but the good news is that you don’t have to worry about me having feelings for you,” she informed, tone taking on a chipper lilt.

He blinked at her, trying not to cry. “Oh. That’s…that’s good.”

She nodded, giving his hands a squeeze. “You don’t have to worry about possibly leading me on and getting my hopes up by coming here and hanging out with me. I actually like someone else, so I’m more than okay with things staying completely platonic between us. You can come here whenever you need to without worrying about a thing, Chat Noir. I swear you’re safe here.”

“Oh,” he breathed, his lips struggling to form the word.

On the one hand, he was absolutely devastated that she’d never loved any part of him and likely never would.

On the other hand, he was so touched by what a good friend she was, how dedicated she was to making sure he felt safe and cared for and welcome.

She was so amazing, and that only made her romantic rejection of him hurt worse because he was deeply in love with this young woman who couldn’t return his feelings.

“Thank you…Marinette,” he managed to get out, smiling brightly through the pain. “That… I really appreciate you…you welcoming me into your home and making me feel…” He swallowed down his emotions, doing a valiant job of covering up his distress. “Your friendship is really precious to me.”

He gave her hand a squeeze and then pulled away, pushing himself up to his feet. “I’m sorry. I really need to be going. Thanks again for tonight.” He sped over to her ladder and scurried up.

“Wait!” she called, hurrying after him as it occurred to her that something was very wrong. “Chat Noir!”

“I’ll come visit again soon, Princess. See you later,” he replied, ignoring her attempts to stop him. He sprang off the ladder, grabbing the lip of the skylight and beginning to pull himself up.

True to form, Marinette grabbed him by the tail and yanked, pulling him back down onto her bed.

With a startled yowl, Chat Noir fell, crashing into Marinette who wrapped her limbs around him like an octopus.

There was a cartoonish scuffle accompanied by cries of “Let go!” and “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

In the end, Marinette, stubborn to a fault, won the day by simply refusing to give up.

Chat was too tired to fight and too used to being beaten in a contest of wills.

He stopped struggling, letting his arms fall to the sides as he, the picture of submission, looked up at her expectantly. “I take it you’re not done with me?” he sighed.

Slowly, she released her death grip, sitting up so that she straddled him and could easily pin him again if he tried to escape. “You looked like you were going to burst into tears,” she explained. “I didn’t want you going back home where there’s no one to give you a hug. Didn’t you say no one was home and all your friends were busy?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled resignedly. “But if you give me a hug, I’m going to burst into tears anyway.”

“Why is that?” she pressed gently.

He took a deep breath and sighed in defeat. He shook his head, smiling up in adoration at her, his eyes pleading for mercy. “I’m in love with you, Marinette.”

Her breath hitched, and her pupils went wide as a flood of emotions washed over her face before finally coming to rest on shocked confusion.

He grinned bitterly. “Yeah. I’m such an idiot. I was so caught up in Ladybug at the time…before I realized that things were never going anywhere between us, that she wasn’t going to change her mind about me. But, you know, when you told me you loved me and I went home and agonized over having to hurt the second most amazing, wonderful girl in my life…there was a part of me that wanted to tell you yes. I’ve always had a little bit of a crush on you, Marinette, and it’s only grown with time.”

“Oh, Chat Noir,” she whispered, hand going to pet his hair. “I…I’m so sorry.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” he assured, lips pulling into a sad smile, the bitterness leaving him. “Don’t worry about it. I was just fooling myself coming over here. I was feeling really alone and forgotten about and unloved, and then Plagg said something that reminded me of the Papa Garou incident. It was stupid,” he laughed at himself. “I got this idea in my head that maybe if you loved me once a couple years ago, you could love me again if I told you how sorry I was for turning you down and how I’d fallen for you since then, but…”

“…I lied again,” Marinette confessed, climbing off of him to sit down at his side.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Do you lie a lot, Princess?”

She nodded. “Constantly. My whole life feels like a lie sometimes.”

He nodded, looking up at her ceiling. “Yeah. I can definitely relate. …What did you lie about this time?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she warned. “We can’t date. I mean, I can’t date you as Chat Noir. It would put both of us in danger, and it just…it wouldn’t work. I’ve thought about this _a lot_.”

His eyes slid back to her, brows rising higher. “A lot? How much is a lot?”

She shook her head and groaned. “I’ve lost substantial amounts of sleep thinking about how I can’t date you. I’ve come up with crazy schemes to try to make it work only to have to talk myself out of it again because I. Can’t. Date. You.”

“As Chat Noir,” he clarified, interest piqued.

“Don’t you dare suggest telling me your identity,” she growled, easily reading his mind.

His ears flattened in disappointment. “I trust you, you know.”

“You can’t trust anyone,” she informed, a hint of personal bitterness in the words. “Least of all me. We’ve already covered how I’m a notorious liar.”

“At least you’re honest about it,” he joked. “…So…the thing you lied about was being more than okay with having a completely platonic relationship with me?”

She averted her eyes and nodded, looking miserable. “I was lying when I told you I was in love with you four years ago, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t love you now. It just can’t happen. I’m sorry.”

“You love me, Princess?” Every cell in his body was vibrating. He couldn’t contain the joy he felt at those words.

“Chat,” she chided in her frustration.

He took her hand in his, tugging on it.

“Marinette?” he called pleadingly.

Blue eyes looked down into vibrant green.

“Please?” he begged in a small, fragile voice.

She smiled, all warmth and the love he had been craving his entire life. “Yeah. I love you, Chat Noir.”

He started to cry silent, happy tears, his smile so wide it nearly split his face.

She shook her head, full of regret. “We can’t date, though.”

“Not as Chat Noir and Marinette,” he corrected. “What if I—”

She shook her head more vehemently. “Minou, no. Please don’t come up to me any time in the next month as a civilian. I will recognize you instantly. I can _not_ know your identity. It’s too dangerous.”

“You might not recognize me,” he pouted, reasoning that she probably wouldn’t make the connection if Adrien slowly started to act less platonically around her.

“No,” she decreed. “Plus, there’s still the other guy I’m in love with. I know I’m dumb pining after him for four years, but…it feels like we’re finally getting somewhere, and I just can’t bring myself to let my feelings for him go.”

“So…you _won’t_ date me…unless I manage to sweep you off your feet as a civilian without you realizing it’s me and make you completely forget about the other guy?” he summarized.

“Pretty much,” she grumbled, hating herself for having to turn him down as Marinette after tormenting him for years as Ladybug. “I’m so sorry, Chaton. I wish it didn’t have to be like this, but I can’t date a masked superhero. It’s too risky.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her, even though it wasn’t really.

She looked him in the eye and shook her head. “No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “So…what do we do about it?”

She bit her lip as she stared down at him, studying his face. “I don’t know,” she confessed, her gaze inevitably getting stuck on his mouth.

He smirked. “…You know…I’ve never been kissed by someone who loved me. Not that I remember, anyway. I know you said dating was out of the question…but how do you feel about kissing a masked superhero?”

She pursed her lips, expression tightening as she struggled against temptation, desire and duty warring within her.

He grinned wider as he saw her fast approaching the point where she said, “screw it”.

“I don’t have enough willpower for this,” she finally decided. “I’m not _that_ good.”

“You don’t have to be, Marinette,” he reassured, his grin softening into an adoring smile.

The kiss was both sweet and searing, patient and playful, languid and lusty, and absolutely perfect.

As they moved in tandem, partners effortlessly in sync like always, Marinette’s resolve shattered. Being with him felt so right. He was worth the danger, worth any risk.

Chat pulled away first, purring like a sports car as he rested his head on her shoulder, nuzzling at her throat. “Love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she replied into his hair, holding him close like the treasure he was.

He melted into her, the trials of the rest of the week nearly forgotten.

“Are you feeling better?” she inquired conversationally, running a hand up and down his spine rhythmically.

“Much,” he assured, chuckling happily, feeling warm and safe and loved in her embrace.

“…You were pretty rough earlier…. Anything you want to talk about?” she tentatively broached the subject.

He breathed in slowly and took a measured exhale. “It’s been a rough week,” he confessed. “My father and his girlfriend went on a trip, so I’ve been home alone. I whined about him leaving me, and he told me, basically, to grow up, so…I’m starting to think he doesn’t love me.”

She squeezed him tighter.

“And my friends have all been busy, and no one’s reached out to check on me, so I just feel kind of forgotten about, like maybe I don’t matter all that much to them,” he sighed. “I know deep down that it’s not true. My friends are wonderful, and they’ve proven how much they love me any number of times, but…this was a bad week for them to be wrapped up in their own lives.”

“I’m sorry, Chaton,” Marinette cooed, giving his hair a tender nuzzle and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m sure they had no idea. If they’re really as wonderful as you say, they would have dropped everything to be with you and make you feel better. It has to be that they just didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” he breathed into her shirt collar. “I know you’re right. They have no idea, and they’d be sick if they knew how depressed I’ve been. They don’t know I’m not okay. I should have just come out and said something to them instead of moping and waiting around for them to figure it out. Plagg was right; I’m too subtle.”

“Well, at least you’ve got me here with you now, and you’ll know for next time to be more straightforward with your friends,” she comforted.

He nodded in agreement, making a mental note of how he was going to deal with similar situations the next time they came up.

They were quiet for a minute, just soaking up each other’s warmth and presence, before Chat gathered the courage to say, “The real problem, though, the primary reason why I’ve been feeling so unloved lately, is because…” He swallowed. “…my mother walked out on my father a couple years ago…and she left me behind.”

Marinette pulled back with a soft gasp, looking down at him with eyes full of deep compassion and pity. “Oh, Chat Noir…”

“She didn’t take me with her,” he continued, voice quavering, “and I haven’t heard from her since. She abandoned me. If not even my mother can love me, how can anyone else?”

That cemented Marinette’s decision. Screw the rules and the risk. She was willing to accept the danger for him.

“Chat Noir, I’m so sorry,” she comforted, soothingly stroking his cheek with her knuckles. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like for you.”

He shrugged. “It’s…hard,” he responded, his reply feeling insufficient even to him, but no more fitting word offered its services. “It weighs on me.”

“Well, let me assure you that _I_ love you,” she confessed confidently. “Chat Noir, will you go out with me?”

He blinked in stupefaction, unable to believe his senses. “What?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” she asked again.

He frowned, distrusting his luck. “Did you change your mind about dating masked superheroes? You’re not agreeing out of pity, are you? Because, Marinette—”

“—No,” she hurriedly explained. “I changed my mind before. When we kissed.”

He arched an eyebrow, a smug expression settling onto his face. “Am I that good of a kisser?”

She rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. “Shut up and say you’ll date me already. It just really clicked for me when we kissed, okay? I’d be an idiot to miss out on a relationship with you because of stupid secret identities and magical domestic terrorists. I’m crazy about you, and you’re so wonderful and deserving of love. I’ve been a fool this whole time because you’re worth any danger. So?” she demanded.

“Wow,” he chuckled. “That’s quite the declaration of love, Marinette. I think I’d be crazy to say no.” He dropped the teasing tone and smiled up at her adoringly. “I’d love to be yours.”

“Good,” she laughed giddily, a broad grin stretching across her lips. “I’ll make sure you never doubt that you’re loved ever again.”

He lifted his head to press his mouth to hers, eagerly tasting her smile.

Several minutes into their second make-out session, Marinette pulled back with a loud, emphatic curse, eyes wide and face pale.

Chat’s heart jolted in his chest as he skimmed his memories in a panic for anything he could have done wrong. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Is today March thirtieth?!” she shrieked, practically jumping out of bed and flying down her ladder to search for her phone.

“…Yes?” Chat replied sluggishly, not processing.

“Shit,” Marinette reiterated, her search becoming frantic.

“Marinette, what’s wrong?” Chat asked again, climbing down to the main part of the attic room. “You’re scaring me.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she interspersed with more curses under her breath. “I forgot something massively important, and I need my phone.”

He grabbed it off her desk by the sewing machine and handed it over. “Here it is.”

“Thank you, Kit-Kat,” she sighed in relief, giving his cheek a grateful peck before becoming completely absorbed in her phone menus.

“Sorry,” she repeated as she lifted the phone to her ear. “It’s the other guy I’m in love with,” she explained, pacing as she waited for the line to connect. “My friend, Adrien Agreste. Today’s the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance, and it completely slipped my mind because I’m a terrible person and an even worse friend.”

Chat’s jaw dropped as his brain struggled to digest this information.

“I need to make sure he’s okay,” she informed. “We can go back to making out in a minute, but he’s a really precious friend to me, and he’s probably lonely and miserable, and I just need to tell him I love him platonically and make sure he’s not getting akumatized because he’d feel horrible about it afterwards, and that’s the last thing he needs on today of all days,” she spit out in one breath. “I should have written it on the calendar or set an alarm,” she groaned, her pace increasing to border on manic. “I thought I would remember, but—”

The call connected.

“Adrien!” she exclaimed, but the wind quickly went out of her sails as she realized it was only the voicemail. She waited for the beep before unleashing a tidal wave of concern. “Adrien, hi. It’s Marinette. Sorry I’m so late in calling. I’m awful, and I’m sorry. Are you okay? I need you to call me back, or I’m coming over there to make sure you haven’t slipped in your shower and hit your head or something. I love you, okay? I just need to know you’re safe, so call me back.”

She hung up and immediately began to dial again. She shot a penitent look at Chat. “I’m sorry. I just need to know he’s okay. I might actually need to go over there. His father and his usual caretaker are in New York, so he’s all alone. Well,” she corrected herself, “I mean, they have overnight staff, and he has his bodyguard, but—Adrien, it’s Marinette again. Call me back and prove you’re not lying dead in a ditch somewhere. I’m not giving up until you pick up your phone. I’m really, really sorry I forgot. I’m the worst, but I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll bring pain au chocolat, so call me back and let me know you’re okay. I love you, Adrien.”

With a sigh and an additional apology to Chat, she started to dial a third time.

“Marinette?” Chat called softly, finally composed enough to speak.

“Sorry,” she repeated, and the tears in her eyes made him shed a few more.

“Marinette,” he called again, voice stronger this time.

But she was too overcome with worry for Adrien.

He was grinning so wide it hurt.

“Detransformation,” he whispered, and the flash of green light got her attention.

She gawked as Adrien Agreste smiled sheepishly at her.

Marinette dropped her phone (which, thankfully, landed on the heap of pillows and blankets from their movie time earlier).

She pointed at him, her jaw nearly unhinged.

He rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. “Um…so…I figured since I’m _both_ the boys you’re in love with, you might want to know. And, I mean, I know you were seriously going to call until I picked up, so… And since you asked…I’m not okay. I’m feeling a lot better than I was earlier tonight thanks to you, but…I don’t think I’m okay, Marinette, and someone should probably know that.”

It was a struggle to keep his expression neutral as he waited, trembling with anxiety, for her response.

He needn’t have worried.

She closed the distance between them and pulled him back into her arms where she nearly crushed him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I love you, and I’m never going to let anyone hurt you, okay? It’s going to be okay.”

He sank into her, letting the tension go. “You still want to date me?”

She scoffed at that. “Adrien, I am never letting you go. Any guy who can make a girl fall in love with him twice is special. You’re stuck with me.”

“I could live with that,” he chuckled.

“Good,” she decreed, pulling back and taking him by the hand. “Come back up to bed. There’s more snuggling to be done.”

They got settled in once more, Adrien purring happily against Marinette’s collarbone.

“There’s a lot I should probably tell you,” she admitted. “But I think that can wait until next time. Tonight, why don’t you talk? Talk about anything you want to, anything you need to get off your chest.”

“…You love me?” he asked instead.

She nodded. “Both of you.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “I think that’s all I really want to talk about.”

She frowned, puzzled. “Really? But…we’ve got so much to discuss.”

He shrugged, reasoning, “And plenty of time to go over it all later. Tonight, I just want to hear about how much you love me. Tell me what you like about me and give me lots of nuzzles and kisses. I think that’s what I want most right now.”

“All right,” she accepted the challenge, starting on the nuzzles. “That shouldn’t be hard.”

“I look forward to your complete and total victory,” he snickered, leaning into her caresses.

The

End

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it. ^.^ Thoughts? Feelings? Opinions? What did you think? How was the amount of angst? Too much hurt? Just the right amount of hurt? Was the fluff fluffy enough? 
> 
> Did you have a favourite scene? I enjoyed the Plagg and Adrien content. ^.^ I always love when Plagg takes care of his kitten. It was nice writing Marinette loving on Chat too, though. Did you have a favourite part? A line of dialogue or description that really stood out to you? Were there parts you didn’t like or similes/metaphors that kind of lost you?
> 
> Funny Story: I was about three paragraphs into this when my computer wanted to restart for updates. I thought, “Meh. Okay. I’ve got twenty minutes to spare.” The update took FIVE HOURS...as I sat there writing on my phone as I waited to regain control of my machine.
> 
> Fun Fact: I often refer to my stories by shortened forms of their titles. (I mean: Rejects, Daisy, Violets, Jabberwocky, Seduction, Phan, Happenstance, Shades, Nachtmusik….) You would think this one would be “Respite”, right? Wrong. ^w^ It’s “RAtS”. This amuses me greatly.
> 
> Well, thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story. Take care everyone!
> 
> Come follow me on [Tumblr](https://mikauzoran.tumblr.com/).
> 
> References:  
> Alice and the Pirates: https://lolitafashion.fandom.com/wiki/Alice_and_the_Pirates  
> Lolita Fashion: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lolita_fashion  
> Taffeta: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taffeta


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